Martha Doolittle was browsing around the mall one day, as young women do, but she'd already finished her shopping yesterday. She was here again because of a store she saw yesterday with her friends, but didn't get the chance to enter before. Now, she was back to check it out alone.
The store seemed different from every other one in the mall. It had this ancient air about it that felt older than time itself. Inside the store were all kinds of things, from old books and strange glass bottles, to toy guns and smart devices. There were even racks of strange clothes and costumes. There was an almost magical feeling to this place, one that Martha was having trouble pining down.
On one of the clothing racks was what looked like a normal net hat. It had a blue brim and netting, a white front, and a pink heart printed on it. Martha didn't know why at the time, but she felt like this particular hat was calling out to her. She reached out to grab it, when a figure in a cloak walked over and snatched it.
"Oh no! Who put this out?" the cloaked figure said in a witchy voice, "Listen, dearie. You want nothing to do with this thing. I haven't a clue what this does. One of my new employees accidentally spilled some transformation agent on it and now it's full of unstable magic! Danged hick... he really should pay closer attention to where his beard swings. Anyway, this isn't supposed to be on the sales floor, so..."
"Wait," Martha snatches the hat from the cloaked woman, "I... I think I need this hat. Something about it's... calling for me."
The cloaked woman tilted her head in confusion. "You. You felt a connection to this hat. *This* hat? Just... just so we're on the same picture here, we are still talking about *this* hat, right? This... this mistake that by all means should not exist?"
"I'll pay any price," Martha was suddenly very adamant about taking this hat, "Just let me have this hat." The woman sighed, muttered something under her breath an told Martha she could just take the hat for free. She thanked her and left the shop. As she did, she pondered over what that cloaked woman had told her about this hat. Transformation agent? What did that mean? Did this not used to be a hat? What did she mean when she said it was full of unstable magic? Was she speaking literally? No... no of course not. It can't be literal magic, right? All the same, this hat...
She put it on her head as she walked out to her car, and the moment she did it felt like an electric shock bolted down her body, paralyzing her in her tracks. Her skin felt like it was on fire and her breathing got heavy. She tried to remove the hat from her head but it felt like it was stuck on with super glue. Her bones started to ache with every step she took.
Suddenly, her hair grew out like wild, getting tangled and unkempt. Her skin began to tan by itself, as though she'd been spending months working in the hot sun. Other parts actually got a little paler. She ended up with bra shaped tan lines, like a lewd farmer's tan. She felt her arms split in two, suddenly sprouting four arms from her shoulders. Hair grew uncontrollably from her armpits as she suddenly began to sweat profusely from every pore in her body. Her breasts ballooned out, destroying her shirt and bra, and growing until they settled around her hips. Her areola looked like puffy dinner plates and her bigger nipples looked like puckered berries. She could feel her hips and thighs fatten up as her stance was spread until she was bowlegged. The crotch of her shorts were torn up as a gigantic, hefty, sweaty, pungent penis grew forth. It was the exact shape and color of a horse's member, as thick as a baby's arm, standing at half mast. She could feel her pussy fattening up and her anus distending into a bit of a musky donut.
Martha's head ached. She'd suddenly turned into some sweaty, musky, four armed woman with huge tits and a horse cock. She was beginning to hyperventilate.
"Oh gawd! Oh GAWD! Land's sake, what've ah become! Wha... whassamatter wit mah voice? I... aw shit! Ah sound like sum kinda redneck hick BITCH! DAW DAGNABBIT! Awright... awright... calm yer little self down there, Martha Mae Doolittle-McFuck... McFuck? What in land's name... why does it sound so right? Ah... shit! Right... what's happenin? Ah got sum consarned hat from that mall there... MAH HAT!" She took the hat off her head with ease at this time, but her transformation seemed to be permanent. "Yew... yew goddamned piece o shit hat! Yew did this to me! Yer more trouble n' a coyote in a chicken coop yew sunuva bitch... Ahm talkin' to a hat." She put it back on her head and sighed. "WELP! Guess this is mah life now! Now ah'm some kinda horse-peckered, four armed freak who talks like a redneck. Just great. Welp, better git on home now... figger some shit out... do something 'bout this headache too, dad-burnit."
Martha Doolittle, the normal girl, had become Martha Mae Doolittle-McFuck, the four armed, horse dicked redneck woman. She drove home to her suburban apartment in her little Camry, playing country music on the radio, ready to try and make sense of what just happened to her.